


Getting Used to It

by EclipseTheCat13



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-12 02:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20556965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseTheCat13/pseuds/EclipseTheCat13
Summary: Catar is the daughter of the White Lady and Pale King. She isn't a vessel by any stretch of the imagination, but she is still a powerful young being in her own right.What happens when she wakes up after a long hibernation to a Hallownest completely changed?





	1. An Old- or new?- Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing something on Ao3, bear with me plz
> 
> Catar is an interesting character to write for

The clash of nail against needle rang through the Greenpath.

..._ noise?... _

She half opened her eyes at a shout of “Hah!” rang through the cavern. A bright red cloak flashed across her line of sight. A memory stirred, one of the only bugs that wore red…

_ ...ah, the princess… _

..._ I’ll sleep a bit longer… _

_ … _

_ … _

_ ...wait… _

She opened her eyes, hearing the rustle of someone leaving the cave. _ Just how long _ She tugged her arm _ have I been asleep? _ pulling it up with difficulty against the plants grown over it, the stiffness of her limbs, and-

_ It has been so long _

She stared at the roots growing from her pale white ‘glove’.

_ that a young seedling like me _

She turned her arm, looking at the thread-like extensions.

_ has started to grow roots. _

_So many years..._

She sat up straight with a little difficulty, stiff from her long hibernation. _ I need to get these plants off of me. _ She lifted her other arm, unrooted because of a lack of light (her cloak had been draped over it) and began pulling the plants off herself. There were many smaller ones she removed easily, and a few that she had to force away. She stood, and wobbled as her feet tried to remain in the same position, as her ‘boots’ had also begun to root, a little more thickly than her arms had. She sat down again and pulled her feet up.

_ I can’t have roots hanging off of me and getting in the way. _ Looking around, she saw her scissor, a specially made style of nail with only one edge and a curved spine. _ There. _ She pulled it out of the ground. It had stayed sharp after so much time, and she carefully severed the roots. There was very little to none of her green blood leaking from the wounds on her arms, and she didn’t wince from the tiny pricks of pain. Those on her feet, however…

She sucked in her breath as she cut away the roots on her feet, and shuddered at the small pool of blood that seeped out. She took a deep breath and stood again, balancing on her feet gracefully for a moment before sitting back down with a gasp and wincing. She rummaged in a small pouch at her side, searching for what she knew was there--a small vial of bright blue lifeblood. It had withstood the test of time well. She uncorked it and carefully poured a single drop on her foot, and the wounds immediately closed. Repeating the process with the other, she stoppered the vial and dropped it in a pocket in the pouch.

And she stood.

See her. A mask, like that of a vessel, covers her face, but as she blinks it is seen that her face is not immobile, like a vessel’s. It is reminiscent of Hornet’s, but the horns are much shorter and blunter. Her body is lithe. White ‘boots’ cover her legs up to the knee joint and ‘gloves’ her forearms from wrist to elbow. The rest of her body is black exoskeleton, like any other bug’s. She wears a tan vest, thin lines of dark green slashed down it at regular intervals. A green cloak covers half of her body and her pouch. A small geo piece is pierced into one of her horns.

She looked around as she slung her scissor across her back. _ I feel stiff, _ she winced. _ But at least I’m not one. _ The hollow, cracked mask of a slain vessel seemed to stare at her as she moved past the room she had been in. _ I need to visit mother. _ She dodged past a mosscreep, but had less luck evading a mossflyer. Her scissor stabbed into it, and an orange liquid flowed out as it fell dead. _ Since when, _ she thought, _ has Greenpath _ \-- she threw a sharp-edged star at an obble-- _ been so dangerous? _

Panting, she escaped into the Queen’s Gardens. _ I need to save my throwing stars. It’s not like I have an unlimited supply of them. Anyway- _ She looked out over the room- _ I doubt that I’ll need them, seeing as mother has really let her garden go. _She stared at the thorny vines coating almost the whole area, ground and walls. There were only a few places that the ground looked to be uncarpeted.

She lay on the edge, reaching to the vines below. Their thorns were so thick and sharp that she immediately snatched her hand back, green blood running from the round puncture in her palm. She studied the wound, then reached back down again. A pale green essence seemed to stream from the puncture, almost invisible against the green blood dripping along with it. _ If I can just-- _ the vines stirred for a moment, then were still. Then, her eyes narrowed with the effort, white roots began to slither out from under the vines, covering them, smothering the thorns. She stood after a thin path had been covered, chest heaving against her chassis.

_ This is much easier than I remembered. I didn’t expect to make it… but I guess I am much older and stronger now… _

She carefully stepped down onto the mat of roots, testing each spot before putting her weight onto it. Near the end, she had to hop from spot to spot, the covering of roots often giving way and sharp thorns stabbing through. The last few meters, she had to do a ninja-style leaping run to avoid being skewered as she balanced and jumped in the split second before the roots broke.

Past the worst of it, she straightened and continued along a lush corridor. She stared at the piles of dead bodies, ill-concealed by the bushes and plants. And at the end--

She dropped to her knees, tears streaming from her eyes as she looked at the dead body of Dryya. _My tutor… The one who taught me how to swing a nail… Dead. _She sat like that for a long while, noting every wound that marred her armor and chassis. _She died protecting mother._ She stood up, rubbing at her face with a hand. _I really do need to talk to her…_ _I feel like she’s the only one who can tell me what’s going on. _

As she walked towards the house her mother had placed herself in after the Pale King--_ father, hah _ \-- had abandoned all the children in the Void, she contemplated it. All those children, thrown away because they weren’t _ pure _ enough. _ I wasn’t in that lot… I guess mother wanted to have at least one child, maybe she sensed that _ father _ wouldn’t succeed. _

She walked in, cleared her throat.

“Hello, mother.”

The White Lady opened her eyes and blinked.

“Catar?”

“Yes.”

Her mother looked down at her. She hadn’t changed much, except the roots were perhaps somewhat thicker than when she had seen the White Lady last.

“It’s been some while since you last visited me.”

“I… was asleep for a while. What’s happened while I was hibernating? It seems so much more… dangerous.” She looked to her mother.

The White Lady looked down at her. “Many of the citizens have not been able to tend to the gardens or towns since the Infection spread. And since the Old Light has been spreading her influence, many more have died from those who have succumbed to her.”

She blinked. “Oh. Dear.”

“Some have stayed, simply because they are secluded or sheltered enough from the husks that wander the tunnels. Others are wanderers, seeing what Hallownest has to offer. Others are simply so savage that they destroy the husks they come across. I believe the Mantis village has done this, removing the husks that wander in.”

She absorbed the knowledge. “Do you know of anything else?”

“Very little, my child.”

She turned to go, hesitated, and turned back. “Are you sure you are alright, alone here?”

Her mother blinked at her. “Of course. And Dryya will return sometime soon. I have nothing to fear from the husks or the Old Light.”

Shocked, she stood there for a moment, then slowly walked out into the lush green cavern. _ She doesn’t know Dryya is dead. Or she is in denial. How… could she not know? _ She stepped past Dryya’s corpse, armor still gleaming over this time, and then the corpses of the Infected that had tried to get through her. _ Perhaps she is only protecting her own mind from the horror of it. _

Squaring her shoulders, she walked forward purposefully. _ Not me. I’ll find out what has happened to Hallownest while I’ve been asleep. _


	2. A New Objective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The infection has spread far.   
Catar is shocked by just how far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will hopefully update every Saturday

She was working her way through the Queen's Gardens, dealing with the husks she met on the way, when another thought occurred to her.  _ Perhaps if I found the Princess. It would mean venturing into Deepnest, but if I’m careful then I could do it.  _ She threw a star at a maskfly that dove at her, dodging into the next string of passages. 

_ There might be just one problem though.  _ She looked around at the junctions. Her mind hadn’t fully recovered, unlike her body. Cognitive thought took more effort than the simple instinctual combat she’d had drilled into her head by Dryya. And the cognitive ability of searching her memory wasn’t quite working.  _ I’m lost. But-- _ she dodged a husk’s charge, slashing it across the back as it went past--  _ If I keep going up, I should eventually find Dirtmouth. There’s a mapmaker there.  _ She stabbed the husk as it tried to get up, and the orange Infection inside it burst, splattering along the ground. Its purse also fell to the ground, spilling fossils. 

She narrowed her eyes at it and picked up a few of the pieces to examine later.  _ I wonder what this is, _ she thought as she glanced at it before slipping it into her pouch. She continued on, seeing bodies here and there, slumped on the ground. A few shook themselves and lurched to their feet, orange Infection lighting the eye holes in their masks. She fought them off, slashing her scissor across them, stabbing and whirling, blocking clumsy grabs with her cape. One charged through the rest, grazing her side with its horn as she barely dodged in time. 

She ran as other husks joined the crowd, leaping over beds of thorns as she made her way up, using throwing stars to help haul herself up the walls, jumping off ledges and using greenery and stars to make her way up. Some Infected could follow, maskflies and mossflyers speeding after her as the rest scrabbled ineffectually at the shaft’s walls. 

Hurling the stars, she grabbed the edge and pulled herself onto the floor of the next corridor. She allowed herself a moment of panting and resting before pushing herself up and running onwards, simply dodging and running past the Infected. Finally she worked her way through the Queen’s Gardens and Greenpath, making it to the Crossroads. 

She stopped, dumbfounded by the sheer number of husks that shambled through the halls. She ducked and slunk past them in the shadows, her dark green cloak helping her past the gazes of the reanimated.  _ How powerful has the Old Light gotten?  _ She wondered, watching an Infected limp past the dark alcove she was hidden in.  _ Has father truly failed? All those Vessels, thrown away for nothing? _

Finally, she made it to the old, broken elevator that led to Dirtmouth. Dismayed, she looked up.  _ How am I supposed to get up there? _

She stared up at the well, then remembered something. She began digging through her pouch, looking at each thing in turn before continuing to the next. Flint and steel, small knife, seasonings, whetstone, lifeblood…

_ Here it is. _

She pulled out the thin, strong coil of spidersilk rope that had been sitting on the bottom of her bag. _ But how to anchor it? She _ rummaged around some more, eventually coming across one of the largest fossils she'd picked up. _ This should work. _ She tied the rope to the fossil and swung it like a sling a few times, testing its weight. Then she stepped under the well, whirling the rope around and around before slinging it up and around one of the metal posts by the well's entrance. 

The fossil smacked against the post with a  _ clang _ , and she tugged on it. 

_ Seems secure enough. _

To be sure, she held on to the spidersilk and dropped her full weight on it. It held, so she began hauling herself up, gripping it with her feet to hold her position while her hands shifted to a higher spot on the rope as she pulled herself up. It also helped that the spidersilk was slightly sticky, keeping her from losing her grip.

She finally reached up and grabbed the edge of the well with one hand, bracing herself against the brickwork and throwing herself over the edge in one fluid motion. She rolled and came up in a half-crouched stance, ready to grab a weapon if danger asserted itself.

"Oh!" A voice said behind her.

She whirled around, gripping the hilt of her scissor. An old bug stood before her. She could feel the confusion radiating off him, even though his mask his his face. 

She relaxed, releasing her hold on her weapon and straightening up. "My apologies if I startled you." 

He nodded. "Apology accepted. I am the Elderbug. This town is called Dirtmouth." 

"I know."

"You know?" The Elderbug seemed startled. "Most travelers have no idea where they're going or what the names of places are." 

She cocked her head slightly. "I am not a traveler. I come from Greenpath." 

He seemed to think about that. "True, you did not come from the wastes, like the other travelers did."

"Others?" 

"Oh yes. A little bug, half my height, with a mask that covered their whole head. They didn't speak at all. The other was an older bug, I can't quite remember his name… He wore a mask as though it was a helmet, though he had another to cover his face. Quarrel, perhaps?"

A memory flashed through her mind, a trip through scrolls and books, vials of acid with pages dissolved in them… A figure turned to her, a kindly hand offered her a small book, pointed at the letters and sounded them out… A taller lady, tentacles picking up vials of acid. As she turned, speaking to her assistant, she caught a glimpse of her mask, four eyes holes carved into the white surface, two large and two small. 

"Could it have been Quirrel?" She asked the Elderbug. 

"Why… Yes, in fact. How do you know?"

She ignored the question, gathering up her spidersilk rope. "Is there a mapmaker here?"

"Yes, that house there." He seemed ever so slightly miffed how she'd brushed aside his question. She ignored it, stowing away her rope. Then she startled him by bowing to him. "Thank you very much, Sir Elderbug." Without watching his reaction, she turned away and walked away to the mapmaker's house. 

When she came in, she saw a tall lady behind a desk, her head resting on one hand as she wrote with the other. 

"What do you wish now?" she said tiredly, looking up. "Oh! I thought you were the little one. I'm sorry. Was there anything you need?"

_ Who is this little one? Perhaps the small bug Elderbug mentioned before Quirrel. _

"Yes. I was wondering if you have maps I could buy?"

She nodded, pulling out several. "What would you prefer? I'm Iselda, by the way." 

She poured over them; some seemed to be what she needed, with extra space to fill in more places. She noticed that there were places missing on them, but stayed silent about it. "I think I'll take this one." It was a fairly large, with more detail than the others. 

"Alright. That'll be 45 geo." 

_ Geo…? _ She thought a moment, then suddenly made the connection. She pulled some of the fossils out of her bag and offered it to Iselda. 

Iselda took it with an amused look. "You don't know which is which, do you?"

Embarrassed, she turned her head away a little. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," Iselda smiled. "Many travelers don't know how to properly sort and count geo. Here." She proceeded to show each piece and tell how much it was worth. 

"Thank you," she said gratefully. 

Iselda waved one hand. "Oh, it was nothing. If you're going to travel around Hallownest, you'll probably have bugs trying to cheat you at every turn. Here's your map." She handed over the map and hesitated a moment before asking, "Could you do me a favor?" 

"What is it?" She asked, startled. 

"If you see my husband, could you tell him that I'd like to see him? His name is Cornifer." 

"Of course. It's the least I could do."

"Thank you." Iselda seemed relieved.

"I may come back, but until then, goodbye." She headed for the door.

"Goodbye, and be careful. Hallownest was bad even before the Infection. It's dangerous."

Catar stopped and looked back. "So am I."

\----------------

Outside, the Elderbug had been dozing slightly. The stranger had opted for a rest on the bench before travelling back into the Crossroads. He woke up partially as he heard footsteps on stone. Opening his eyes, the Elderbug saw her standing by the well. She looked at him for a moment, then jumped, cloak billowing out for a moment before she disappeared. He frowned under the mask. "She didn't even say goodbye."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She will never say she's leaving


	3. Moving Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catar realizes that she's hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Food

She dispatched one of the husks that had foolishly attacked her alone.  _ I need to get to Deepnest. _

She found a small, out-of-the-way spot to rest and check her map. She'd been traveling through the Crossroads for a while now, avoiding the majority of the Infected. She'd marked her path on the map, and now she traced the way she'd have to go.  _ Through the Fungal Wastes and then to Deepnest. They're both fairly dangerous areas… Mother did mention that the Mantis village 'removed' husks… I hope that I won't have to actually pass through there. They had an unfortunate habit of eating the occasional sentient bug, and I doubt that they've stopped.  _

Standing up, she stumbled a bit. She put her hand on the wall to steady herself and narrowed her eyes.  _ That’s odd.  _ Then her stomach growled.  _ Oh. I haven’t eaten in a while. I guess that I’ll have to catch something, seeing as the Crossroads don’t really have much plant life. And they’re dim, which explains why I’m hungry. There’s no light for me to process into food.  _

She stood, walking out into the main area. Now, clumsy with hunger, she was especially careful. She continued towards the Fungal Wastes, eyes open for any small stray bugs she could take. Eventually, as she was nearing the Wastes, she found a tiktik that had wandered a bit too far. She snared it with a single root, holding it with difficulty as it strained against the tether. She slew it with a thrust of her scissor to its head. Picking up the dead tiktik, she looked for a spot where she could cook it without all the husks being attracted to the fire. 

_ There.  _

A small alcove in the wall offered protection from prying eyes. She sat down and began to dig through her pouch, setting down the tiktik. Then she pulled out the flint and steel and lit the small sticks that she’d gathered as soon as she realized that she needed to eat. The sparks caught and a small fire grew out of the sticks. She watched the fire flicker and dance for a moment, orange and yellow flames gnawing hungrily at the twigs. Then she retrieved a small knife from her pouch and cut the tiktik open, carefully draining the Infection. She cleaned it and seasoned the meat before spearing it with a long, sharp stick. She balanced it over the flames, then pulled a cloth and whetstone out of her pouch. Her blade had been getting messy and dull from so much use in such a small time. Cross legged, she cleaned off the orange stains of the Infection and the dark red blood of the hostile living. Once the scissor was clean, she sharpened it and then cleaned it again. Finally, she took a small bottle of oil out of her bag and oiled the weapon. 

By this time, the tiktik was done. She pulled it off the stake and peeled open the shell. It was cooked just right, enough to remove the sharp iron tang of the Infection but not so much that the meat was tough. The spices she had used to flavor the tiktik’s meat had cooked in to it, and the meat was in a pool of juices that had cooked out of it. In short, the whole thing was delicious. She ate it, savoring each bite, and when she was done, she drained the shell of juices. 

_ That was the best meal I’ve ever had. _

She got up and carefully buried the tiktik’s shell so that any predators wouldn’t locate her small camp and attack her while she was off guard. When she returned to her camp, she sat down.  _ I ought to rest. _ Her eyes began to close, and she lay down by the fire, banking it so that it wouldn’t go out during the night. Then her eyes closed and she fell asleep. 

\--------------

Ghost had been exploring the Abandoned Crossroads to see if there were any friendly vendors still alive. They traveled in the southeast edge of the area, around the entrances to the Fungal Wastes and Fog Canyon. They looked around a small room and decided to go to the Fog Canyon, as no one seemed to stay in the husk-filled Crossroads. Ghost couldn’t blame them, really, since it was tiring even for them to fight off all the Infected. As they headed to the Canyon, they passed a small alcove. They figured it was a dead end, but decided to investigate anyway. They had found some interesting things in out-of-the-way corners, after all. As they walked into the alcove, the flicker of light on the walls made them slow down and draw their nail. When they turned the corner, they saw a small camp set up. A small fire glowed in the center of the room, while a pouch and an oddly shaped nail leaned against the wall. A figure was by the fire, cloak drawn over them. It slowly lifted, then fell. Ghost watched them breathe, then turned and walked away. 

\-------------

She watched the fire as it slowly flickered and died down. She felt comfortable, almost like she could go back to sleep and hibernate for a long time again. The flames snapped and crackled softly as she watched with half-closed eyes. Then she sat up.  _ Snap out of it, _ she berated herself.  _ You don’t have time for this. _ She shook her head, blinking hard.  _ I have to keep moving. _

Standing up, she stretched the stiffness out of her limbs. She slung her pouch back on and secured her scissor on her back. She felt good. Strong. Squaring her shoulders, Catar walked forward. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked my discourse on cooking and home ec


	4. Mantises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catar finds herself at an impasse with the Mantis Lords.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was wondering whether or not to just skip her trek through here then was like  
"What the heck I wanna write a fight scene"

She was here. The Fungal Wastes. The air was yellow, full of the spores from the many mushrooms. She squinted against the heavy atmosphere, struggling to see far enough ahead to not be ambushed by the odd fungal people that inhabited this area. 

Infection. It felt like the whole world had an orange tint. She cut down a mushroom creature, and it spewed the horrible fluid. She narrowed her eyes against the splattering. 

She saw the occasional Mantis, but they didn't catch sight of her through the fog and she easily avoided them. 

As she walked through the Wastes, she occasionally saw signs of another uninfected being aside from Mantises. Dead Infected littered some places, and some areas were smashed up.  _ I wonder who could be doing all this damage.  _

She slashed through a few husks that got in her way. Checking her map, she realized that she'd strayed somewhat off course. To avoid the area she wanted, she'd have to backtrack.  _ I don't want to lose time.  _ She let out a low hiss of irritation.  _ I'll just have to go through the Mantis Village.  _

She continued, wary. The Mantises were a tough and warlike people. She wouldn't relish having to fight them. Suddenly through the gloom, she saw a mantis- directly in her path. She shifted her grip on the scissor, holding it low but ready. 

The mantis turned and caught sight of her. It cocked its head then moved towards her. She waited for a moment, and the mantis paused for a second as well. Then it lunged forward with no warning, slashing at her with its claws. She instinctively ducked, flattening herself almost to the ground, and deflected the strikes upward. The adversaries locked scissor and claws and pushed. The mantis was a bit taller than her. It took full advantage of its height, leaning its full weight onto her scissor. They shoved back and forth.

Seeing that the fight was going nowhere except to tire her out and weaken her, she suddenly slipped to one side and whirled, whipping her cloak across the mantis's face. It lurched forward, blinded, and she made a cut at its body. The mantis staggered back, claws folded in front of the gaping wound she had inflicted. 

"I wish to pass." She stood straight, dripping weapon held out straight in a challenging gesture. 

The mantis stood to the side, bowing slightly. She moved past, wary of a strike at her back. The mantis made no move, simply watching the odd bug with the odd nail continue on her way.

She continued, staving off occasional attacks by mantis youths and their elders. They would strike swiftly before backing off slightly. She couldn't keep them at a distance, since they would make lightning-quick lunges. Eventually, she simply got in close, locked weapons, and pulled the same move as she had on the first mantis. 

The inhabitants of Mantis Village she wounded kept their distance, but then fresh mantises would move in. Finally, she made it to a bench and sat, breathing hard. Numerous scrapes and small cuts laced her shell where she had been clipped and slashed by the mantises. 

After a short rest and treating the worst of her injuries, she stood and made her way back into the fray. Determination lent her strength. Even some of the unwounded mantises kept their distance. After making two adult mantises and a youth all back off at the same time, nursing wounds, the crowd moved away. She stood, proud in the center of a watchful circle, scissor covered in blood. 

The mantises observed her, then one by one, skirted around her and continued their business. She sheathed her weapon on her back and continued down the village's main chute. She leaped into the only tunnel leading down from the village. When she dropped and rolled, she came up with one hand on the ground and one sweeping her scissor off her back, ready for any enemies. 

Three mantises sat on their thrones, observing her through narrowed eyes. She stood up straight, weapon held low, pointed at the ground but ready. Stains from mantis blood were splashed across the blade. 

The Mantis Lord in the center throne asked, "What do you wish?" 

"I wish to pass." 

The Mantis Lord stood. There was a grinding sound as steel bars slid shut over the exits, and two narrow spike pits opened on the edges of the room. "Then you must first defeat us in trial by combat." 

She dropped into a fighting stance. "Very well." 

The Mantis Lord leaped with amazing dexterity, bringing her nail-spear to bear on her before slamming down. She dodged the blow, returning with a cut of her scissor that the Lord deflected with the handle of her spear. She jumped back, grabbing hold of the bars, and threw her spear in a spinning arc. She swayed back, avoiding the blow, and the Lord snared the whirling weapon as it came back to her. Dropping to the ground, the Lord lunged at her with a fast stab of her spear. She whirled out of the way and slashed at her back as she went past. She stumbled forward, then jumped in the air and stabbed down at her. Her scissor deflected the strike as she pulled out a throwing star and slashed with it like a knife, catching the Lord across the chest. She gasped and jumped back onto her throne.

She held her bloody weapons ready as the other two Mantis Lords stood and leaped at her. The ensuing fight was tiring and gory, blocking the blows aimed at her fairly easily but finding it difficult to return cuts as both Lords attacked somewhat in turn. Finally, after going through a flurry of moves, she dealt savage wounds to both and they, too, returned to their thrones. As the spike pits closed and the bars were raised, all three Mantis Lords stood and bowed.

And Catar bowed back. 

Then she left for Deepnest, ready for the dangers within. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, there was not one, but many fight scenes

**Author's Note:**

> I have a goal for this and there will be more OCs eventually   
I just need to keep writing more to gET IT THERE


End file.
